


Ribbon, Velvet, Leather and Gold

by Fickle_Obsessions



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Collars, Consensual Kink, M/M, Neck Kissing, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fickle_Obsessions/pseuds/Fickle_Obsessions
Summary: Washington gently teases Lafayette by putting a ribbon around his neck, Lafayette likes it a lot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shipping this over from tumblr because I always want to be sure that if someone's looking for this ship they can find it.

In the privacy of Washington’s quarters, Lafayette is seated upon the general as if he is upon the lap of a king enthroned. Lafayette has always enjoyed this position for their couplings because it gives him a chance to think of Washington so. A king of a kingdom no bigger than a room with no court to attend him, but Lafayette still delights in being draped upon him like splendor and riches. It is not, perhaps, a very Republican metaphor, but Lafayette cannot help where his mind wanders when he is busy bobbing on Washington’s cock. Such decadent pleasure possibly has no place in Republican virtue either, but Lafayette would not give this up for anything.

Hands on Lafayette’s hips, his general guides him, makes Lafayette practice patience, makes him go long, and slow, and easy so that he can feel every bit of Washington as he sinks down. Washington enjoys the game of prolonging their release, of delay. Every now and then Washington claims Lafayette is too much, and holds him down onto his lap, giving Lafayette no other sensation but that of being filled completely. Lafayette, very young and always eager, whines a bit when he is forced to pause, rubs his hips down in little circles that make Washington’s hands, folded over his hipbones as if they were handles, hang on just a little tighter.

Washington makes Lafayette wait until he almost cannot stand it, then finally, finally, he encourages Lafayette to set his own pace. Lafayette does so gladly, works up a sweat, loses his breath, and chases his release. He fucks himself on Washington’s cock until his legs begin to burn with the strain, until he begins to lose his rhythm. Lafayette makes a frustrated noise, so close but not yet there, and Washington takes pity on him. One of his hands leaves Lafayette’s hip to take his shoulder instead, and Washington eases him back against his chest, lets Lafayette simply brace himself while his general takes over.

Little gasps getting punched out of him every time the general’s cock hits home, Lafayette wraps a fist around his own need and it doesn’t take very long at all for him to find his release. When he finally cries out, collapsing back against Washington as his seed splashes onto his chest, Washington is kind. He turns his thrusts into nudges, slow and shallow, until Lafayette is finished shuddering through his pleasure and remembers how to breathe.

“Can you hold yourself up a little longer, my boy?” Washington asks eventually, his voice soft in Lafayette’s ear.

Lafayette nods, determined. He puts a hand on either one of Washington’s thighs, raises his hips, and holds himself steady. Washington sighs, turns his face into Lafayette’s neck, nuzzles his nose behind Lafayette’s ear, before he starts in earnest. Lafayette shivers again, gasps, his nerves all alight again because of Washington’s lips on his throat, and the strike of his hips against his own.

Eventually one of Washington’s large hands comes up and cups Lafayette’s neck and Lafayette sighs, tilts his head back so that it will slip more fully up the column of the throat. Washington rubs his fingertips lightly on the skin, teasing, before he grips a little tighter and turns Lafayette’s head toward Washington for a kiss. It is a bit of a strain to turn far enough to bring his lips against Washington but Lafayette hardly minds it. He lets his general lick into his mouth, and suck his breath away. Soon enough, however, the force of Washington’s thrusts are jostling him too much to keep a kiss properly together, and Lafayette must turns away to gasp for more air. Washington lets him break the kiss but he keeps a hand softly over his throat and buries his face in Lafayette’s hair while he fucks him.

Washington wraps an arm around Lafayette’s waist and pulls him tight against him, shoving his hips against Lafayette’s as if his goal is simply bury himself as deeply as he might into Lafayette’s body. He groans as he spills, a lovely low sound that Lafayette can feel emanate from deep inside his chest. Then Washington's lips part over the back of Lafayette’s neck and he’s panting gusts of warm air over the skin while his hips flex through the last of his release.

Lafayette relaxes into his arms and Washington holds him in his lap without any sense of hurry. He fills the time by kissing Lafayette’s throat until he raises goose pimples beneath lips. Lafayette’s spent cock takes an interest in the general’s worship of him, gets thick and heavy, but not fully hard, where it lays against his thigh. It would take more time than they could spare, Lafayette thinks, to satisfy himself again. Reluctantly, he extricates himself from the temptation.

His legs are jelly when he pushes himself up from Washington’s lap, but he bullies himself into moving about the room. He finds the towels and the washbasin, and hastily cleans the mess between his thighs. He wets another towel and takes it to Washington who takes it one hand and reaches for him with the other.

He brings Lafayette down for a kiss, and Lafayette braces his hands against the arms of the overstuffed chair that was the aide in their coupling. Washington’s fingers dance again upon his neck and Lafayette hums.

“You are so very sensitive there,” Washington says, sitting back against the chair.

“And you are so very fascinated by this,” Lafayette teases back. Washington smiles at him but does not argue against the accusation. He takes the towel from Washington and places it with the rest of the laundry.

Though he wishes he could return to his general, take him to the bed in the corner and linger, it would not be prudent. Not when the guards on watch mark the time and the passage of guests. Sighing, Lafayette begins to make sense of the pile of his clothes upon the floor. Washington rises behind him, and slips on his night shirt and ties a banyan robe closed over it. His general has the pleasure of dressing for bed now, but Lafayette must dress for a very public walk to his own quarters nearby.

Lafayette feels Washington’s eyes upon him as surely as he would his touch, knows that his general watches as he makes himself into a soldier again. When Lafayette has pulled on his shirt, and is done with his stockings and breeches, Washington turns away, goes to his dresser and busies himself with looking for something in a drawer. Lafayette finds his neck cloth and cravat and runs them through his fingers to smooth them.

Yet before he can begin to put them on again Washington comes up behind him and from the corner of his eye Lafayette can see Washington’s hands as they reach over his shoulders. Looped over Washington’s fingers is a black ribbon, the kind one might use to tie back a queue. Washington has no apparent interest in Lafayette’s hair, however, the silk ribbon is laid across his neck instead. The fabric is so soft and cool against skin still slightly flushed from their exertions that Lafayette gasps.

His general begins to tie the ribbon so that it encircles Lafayette’s neck like a lady’s choker necklace.

“What is this?” Lafayette asks, lifting his fingers up to brush against it. At about the very same time, Washington leans down to press a kiss just above it, and Lafayette’s next exhale is a bit shaky. 

“Something to think about as you leave me,” Washington says. “A little reminder of my fascination.”

Then he steps away, and Lafayette finishes dressing. He hides the ribbon with his neck cloth and cravat, slips on his waistcoat and jacket, and passes a hand over his hair. He leaves the room with his general’s kiss lingering upon his lips, and a secret wrapped around his throat.

They rendez-vous at their usual time the next night, and Lafayette is pressed against the door by Washington almost upon entering and caught in a kiss. They’d had no business with each other all day, and Lafayette is delighted to know that he was missed so greatly. _Especially when,_ Lafayette starts to think, but Washington’s fingers are already at his cravat, slipping under to pull the cloth free and they find it there: the little secret. Their kiss becomes quite still, and then Washington breaks away to look down as he carefully unties the neck cloth and pulls away the cravat.

Lafayette’s chest heaves, excited, nervous to have the little slip of black ribbon still neatly tied round his throat exposed.

Washington touches a finger to it, reverently. “All day you wore this?”

Lafayette nods as he feels a blush come up on his cheeks. “I liked it quite a bit.”

“The feel of it?” Washington asks, leaning down to suck on the skin beneath his jaw.

Lafayette wraps his arms around Washington’s shoulders and admits, “I liked that it was yours. It felt like-” He is suddenly too shy to say it.

Washington straightens his back, looks down at him, searching. Lafayette cannot meet his eyes, drops his own to the floor and hides behind his lashes. “It felt like I was yours. All day it felt like I was carrying a secret mark of your ownership.”

The general’s hand on Lafayette’s waist tightens, pulling him flush against him. Lafayette looks up, startled and sees Washington gazing at him so intently his eyes seem to burn. “You wish to be owned?”

Lafayette smiles, “You already have every bit of me that you possibly can. But I liked being able to feel it, to touch my collar and know that it was there.”

The heat in Washington's gaze becomes an easy sort of warmth, pleased with Lafayette's answer, sated perhaps by the talk of the indelible claim to go with the physical reminder. He kisses Lafayette again, begins to undress him, but he leaves the ribbon there throughout the whole of their evening together. He spreads Lafayette upon the bed so that he may see it, Lafayette’s neck carrying something like his mark. As Lafayette arches beneath him, Washington lays a hand comfortably over it. Washington is not impatient exactly, but he does not play the game of delaying. The pace he sets keeps Lafayette breathless, and afterward Washington kisses all around the ribbon, licks the sweat from Lafayette’s collarbone, and bites very gently at the thin skin of his throat until Lafayette is boneless beneath him.

The ribbon stays on when Lafayette dresses again, is hidden again under Lafayette’s neck cloth and ruffles. Alone that night in his bed, Lafayette touches it with his fingers and imagines it is Washington's hand there instead. He falls asleep that way, slips into a deep and restful slumber, feeling far less alone.

Of course it remains, the little black ribbon, and becomes a favorite secret. Lafayette wears it without fail and Washington trusts always that it is there. During the day Washington has taken to putting his hand on the back of Lafayette’s neck in what must appear to prying eyes to be a brief, paternal gesture. Lafayette learns to master his blush, knowing as he does that his general wishes to remind him in that moment, you are mine. Lafayette reminds himself of that often, too. He finds that if his hand strays up to the ruffles at his throat and he thinks of the ribbon he will be calmed by the thought, you are his. It makes him braver, reminds him that when others question his motives or allegiances that he has on his very person a token of General Washington’s perfect trust.

At night the ribbon makes his general proprietary, makes him hold Lafayette tighter to him, removes the hesitation he may have had before in arranging Lafayette’s limbs to his liking. He plays his game of delaying, holding Lafayette’s hips still, denying him the friction while whispering, “Patience, my pet.” It draws Washington’s attention very well, the little ribbon, and Lafayette spends countless nights shivering under Washington as he tastes, and kisses, and sucks small red marks onto his exquisitely sensitive neck.

In short, Lafayette wants for nothing at all, except to never again be without the ribbon around his throat. He loathes even to take it off to bathe.

Which is why it is so distressing to him when it begins to fray. It’s Washington who brings his attention to it, tutting that the edges have begun to unravel. Lafayette makes an unhappy noise, and Washington does not miss the fact that this appears to be something he should not tease about, nor an item that can be lightly discarded or replaced.

He gathers Lafayette into his arms, and put his lips against Lafayette’s neck, kisses him softly until Lafayette lets go of his rather silly dread and sighs.

“I think,” Washington says gently, “I ought to give you something sturdier. Something meant to last.”

Lafayette agrees, though he gives very little thought to what will replace it. Given the ribbon’s likeness to a choker necklace he imagines a bit of jewelry, sturdy velvet with a gold clasp. He does not expect, some weeks later for Washington to produce a dark leather collar from a box when Lafayette comes to him for the night.

“If you do not like it,” Washington says, apprehension making the words sound light, gentle, “I will not be offended.”

Lafayette does not say one way or the other at first, but takes it from him to look at it more closely. If anyone were to just glance at it they would like assume it was a dog’s collar, albeit a very, very fine one. The leather is thin, smooth, perfectly supple, and dyed a very dark color. The buckle is indeed gold, and on the outside, embossed upon the leather is the general’s military seal. Lafayette turns it over in his hands and sees that on the inside is another insignia. Lafayette recognizes it from Washington’s personal effects.

“It is my family crest,” Washington says softly.

Lafayette fingers flex reflexively around the collar, realizing that he is to belong both to the general and the man.

“If it upsets you-” his general begin’s to say, but Lafayette speaks over him.

“Put it on for me, sir?” he asks, and passes the collar back to Washington who takes it with fingers that seem numb, nerveless.

While Washington waits, watching perhaps for some sign of regret or hesitation, Lafayette pulls off his neck cloth and ruffles and the black ribbon hidden beneath them. He stands at his full height before his general, neck long and straining toward Washington like a plant toward the sun.

Washington works the gold buckle free and lays the leather over the back of Lafayette’s neck. It’s cold, cold enough to make Lafayette gasp, but he knows it will warm soon enough and feel like a second skin. Lafayette breathes softly through parted lips as Washington closes it around his neck until rests perfectly there, neither too loose or too tight.

“How does it look?” Lafayette asks, as if he cannot guess from the way Washington is staring at him, eyes fixed upon Lafayette’s throat.

His general’s voice is husky when he answers, “It looks very fine. Do you like it?”

Lafayette reaches up to brush his fingers lightly over the collar, shivers at the feel of it, at the way Washington’s eyes follows his fingers. “ _Cher général,_ I only wish you’d commissioned a lock for it and that only you had the key.”

Washington makes a soft noise, and his hand lifts as if on its own to replace Lafayette’s. He hooks his fingers under the collar and tugs gently, making Lafayette step closer to him. “My boy, you must be more careful with what you say to me.”

Smiling, Lafayette tilts his face at just the angle that will surely entice Washington to kiss him. He says, just before Washington does just that, “I will not, sir. Not if it keeps getting me what I want.”


End file.
